The Adventures Of Margarita Guy: A TSJPFEW Special
by Lord Kristine
Summary: In celebration of the one year anniversary of The Silliest Jurassic Park FanFiction Ever Written, here is a special story for the silliest fanbase I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.


Frank Guerrero grabbed his margaritas as a flock of flying reptiles began to dive-bomb Main Street. The ruckus of pattering feet and flapping wings was overpowered only by the blaring sirens and frantic screams. Frank wondered why they had installed sirens at a theme park in the first place, but the thought was soon snuffed out when the man beside him was snatched up by one of the monsters.

"AAAAAAAAAH! THIS IS WORSE THAN 'NAM!"

Frank waddled into a gift shop, margaritas in hand. He leaned forward to sip from one of the glasses, but someone jostled him. He choked a little and exited the building to find a less crowded drinking place.

He found a safe area by the back of the mosasaur tank. He could see people running and screaming back on the street, but he was well out of their way. There was nothing here to disturb him. Nothing except-

'Arck! Arck! Arck!'

The mosasaur popped out of the water and leaned over the edge of the tank, making a loud choking sound. Its eyes bulged, and it began to cough harder.

'ARCK! ARCK! AR-COUGH!'

It spat up a bleeding woman, who fell hard on the concrete. Frank walked over and poked her with his foot, holding his margaritas to the side.

"Hey, lady. You okay?"

Her eyes shot open, and she gasped loudly. Frank stepped back in alarm. She began to writhe around, grabbing her throat in agony.

"Oh, geez. Do you need medical attention?"

The woman kicked her legs in the air, and they began to change. Long talons poked through her shoes, and she started growing a long, fishy tail.

"Jesus Christ!"

The woman rolled onto her stomach. A long crest shot out of her head like a cartoon goose-egg. Her face lengthened and sprouted a toothy beak, which opened in an animalistic scream.

"Lady, do you need help?"

The woman continued to contort, adopting distinctly non-human characteristics with every passing moment. She finished changing once she was a few bus-lengths long. Just when Frank thought she was done, her pupils grew large until they covered her entire eyes. She shook her head and barked in a raspy tone.

"Um, lady . . ."

She whipped her head around to glare at him. Frank gulped. The changed woman began to crawl forward on leathery wings, opening her mouth in a menacing hiss.

"Uh . . ."

Suddenly, a large, flaxen animal flew down from the sky and tackled the monster-woman. Frank ducked out of the way, carrying his margaritas over to a sheltered peanut stand. When he turned around, he saw the monster being restrained by glowing ropes. A slick-looking woman in an expensive suit strutted over to him. Her high heels clicked on the ground sharply. When she reached Frank, she whipped a spray-can out of her jacket and squirted mist in his eyes.

He tightened his grip on the margaritas as he went unconscious.

***CLIPSHOW***

When Frank came to, he was in a dark room. He still had both margaritas in his hands, and he was lying on a very uncomfortable cot. He sat up and looked around. There were several other men on different cots, and they were all waking up at once. The woman in the suit was standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed.

"Good evening, gentlemen. You are here because you know too much, or because I have deemed you to be a valuable asset. Either way, you are being recruited to serve Spurr Enterprises. Follow me to the training room."

They formed a line behind her and entered a large auditorium with an old-fashioned projector in the center. On either side were countless chairs, filled by other men and a few white dinosaurs. Frank sat between a chubby white dinosaur and a white dinosaur with a mustache, taking care not to spill his drinks. The chubby dinosaur leaned over and whispered to him.

"Hey, do you know why we're here?"

"We've been recruited, of course!" the other dinosaur muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, Hamada!" the chubby dinosaur snapped, "Nobody explained anything to me!"

"That's because you're only good at being eaten!"

A white dinosaur in a hardhat behind them rolled his eyes.

"Pot, kettle. Kettle, pot."

The woman in the suit walked over to the projector.

"Gentlemen, you are here for one reason and one reason alone."

"We got eaten?" a white dinosaur in the front row huffed.

The woman gave him a sharp stare, and he shrunk down in fear.

"Do not interrupt me," she whispered with venom, "No, gentlemen, you are here because you are assets. Observe."

She flicked a switch on the projector, and an image of a cheerful blonde woman appeared on the hanging screen.

"This is Ellie Sattler. She _thinks_ she is queen of the Universe, but we are here to prove her wrong."

She changed the slide. The screen showed a lush island.

"Many years ago, Ellie Sattler was called to Isla Nublar in another world. It was the beginning of an adventure, spanning time, space, and more dimensions than is easy to keep track of. But I _did_ keep track of them. I was watching the whole time . . ."

***CLIPSHOW***

"Alan! Alan, wait! It's probably nothing."

"Goddamnit, Ellie, you know as well as I do that it's InGen! How many museums have helicopters?"

"Fine, fine, you're right. But it's probably more paperwork. You know: nothing serious."

He wasn't convinced. They ran out the front entranceway and, sure enough, an InGen chopper had landed near the dig site. The propellers slowed down, lessening the small sandstorm they had created. The paleontologists were not pleased. Some yelled at the pilot in frustration, others covered the unearthed fossils to prevent further damage. It was a mess.

Sattler apologized to the paleontologists as she passed by. They glared at her, but she ignored them. As they approached the chopper, Sattler and Grant noticed a dark-haired man in a lab coat climbing out of the back seat. They had met him before, but only briefly. Still, it was hard to forget an experience like the hatching of a velociraptor. The man's name, however, eluded them.

"Hello, Dr. Grant, Dr. Sattler. How have you been?"

"Fine, thank you. What's this about?" Grant snapped, wondering where Hammond was.

"It's just a precaution. You'll need to return to the US with us. Follow me."  
Sattler shook her head.

"Hold on a second. We are NOT getting into that helicopter until you explain what's going on. We aren't scheduled to leave until the third," she protested.

The man turned sharply.

"For your own safety, I must insist that you postpone any further plans and come with me," he whispered harshly.

It was clear that, whatever the issue was, they had no choice in the matter. The implied urgency of this meeting was a shift from the usual encounters with InGen, which were usually businesslike and well-regulated. Since the initial disaster, they had signed countless forms, documents, and pacts to ensure the company's credibility. It was stressful work, and they weren't morally satisfied with their nondisclosure, but Hammond had made the ordeal as smooth as possible. He truly regretted his decisions regarding Jurassic Park, and he was more than ready to accept responsibility for what had happened on Isla Nublar. He was still a sweet old man, visionary and eccentric, but he was certainly less naïve after the incident. If there was one thing that could get them on this helicopter, it was the implied promise that they could somehow assist the poor man in his endeavors.

"Alright, we'll go. Just don't expect us to stay for long," Grant hummed.

***CLIPSHOW***

"But they _did_ stay for long," Spurr continued, "And they were joined by a friend."

***CLIPSHOW***

"Hey Alan, what's this seetee- uh- kit- kitty-" Ian stuttered.

"Citipati?"

"Is that how you say it? Weird."

"I'm sure it would think that 'Ian' is a weird name, too."

Ellie laughed.

"And this, uh, this too- tuojeeang-"

"Tuojiangosaurus."

"Two-wang-osaurus? He really got the short end of the naming stick, didn't he?"

"Better than pantydraco."

Ian paused.

"You're serious?"

"It's a real dinosaur," Ellie said, confirming Alan's claim.

Ian began to laugh in his usual Ian-ish way. Giggling like a ninny herself, Ellie realized that Wu had left to speak with the pilot. She hadn't noticed whether it had been their fault, but it gave her an idea . . .

"Well, it seems we've scared Doctor Wu away," she said craftily, "I suppose he won't be guanlong."

And thus began a tournament of dinosaur puns, ending with Alan's infamous "Doyouthinkhesaurus" joke. Ellie wondered where he had picked it up. He used it quite often, especially with children, and they seemed to love it every time. Maybe he was just getting better with kids . . .

***CLIPSHOW***

"It wasn't long before they became an inseparable group."

***CLIPSHOW***

"Good morning, Ian," Alan shouted sarcastically.

"Oh, shit. Did I wake you guys up?" he replied through the door.

"Oh, no. Don't worry about it. We were already awake. Are you okay?" Ellie asked.

"Yeah, but I think the lamp is in critical condition. Is yours shaped like a brontosaurus too?"

"Apatosaurus," Ellie and Alan chimed in simultaneously.

"Same thing."

"It really isn't," Alan said, opening the connecting door.

Over Alan's shoulder, Ellie could see the lamp lying on the ground, broken beyond repair. Ian (who was dressed in an unflattering pair of striped pajamas) was dragging the waste basket across the floor. Ellie and Alan volunteered to help him clean up the scene of the crime.

As they swept up the jagged porcelain fragments, there was a knock at the door. Ellie stood up to answer it. She found Wu standing in the hallway with a clipboard under his arm and a pleasant smile upon his face.

"Good morning, Dr. Sattler," he said, bowing his head slightly.

"And to you too, Dr. Wu," Ellie replied.

"Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Actually, we were just about to leave."

She looked over her shoulder to assess the cleanup progress. There was still a thin layer of powder on the carpet, and the men were doing a terrible job of rubbing it out.

"Um, we need to stay a little longer, I think. You see, the lamp-"

"Gorgeous, aren't they? Each one is hand-painted by members of the local Bribri tribe. They cost us quite a bundle."

"Did they?" Ellie asked with a wobble in her voice.

"Oh, yes. Now, are you ready to come downstairs, or shall we wait until-"

"Breakfast sounds nice, actually," Ellie said hurriedly as she blocked his view. "Why don't you walk me down? We'll let the others catch up later."

***CLIPSHOW***

"But all good things must come to an end."

***CLIPSHOW***

"You want a joke? Here's a good one! What do you call a temperamental paleobotanist who has no sense of humor?"

"Ian, don't you dare . . ." Alan growled threateningly.

"Sattler-nine!"

"Alright, break it up, all of you!" shouted an unfamiliar voice.

The nurse had returned with a burly blonde man and a female scientist. They didn't look happy.

"As a fully certified employee of InGen, I must insist-"

"Shut up, Robin!"

"Why don't YOU shut up, you big buffoon!"

"Wench!"

"Fascist!"

And with that, the room erupted into chaos.

While the trio continued to argue, Robin and the burly man wrestled on the floor, shouting insults as they slapped each other into oblivion. The nurse was rocking back and forth in the corner, hugging her knees and praying in Spanish. The volume continued to rise, as did the arm-gnawing and hair-pulling.

"I'll kill you, you tree-hugger!"

"Eat my fist, you knock-kneed charlatan!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ellie, I thought you were perfectly fine!"

"Do I LOOK fine?!"

"Dios mío, líbrame de esta gente loca . . ."

"-waiting to have children, but it's been two years-"

"Fetid crumbum!"

"-under a lot of stress, it's not my fault-"

"CRAP-WEASEL!"

"POOP-RAT!"

"-poseídos por espíritus malignos-"

"-lost my job, but you're still working-"

"GARBAGE-BREATH!"

"-lied to me, you're no better than InGen-"

"LET GO OF MY LEG!"

"Forget it! I'm not putting up with another-"

"Oh, Dios! Ella está mordiendo la rodilla de ese hombre!"

"That's my elbow, you wh-"

"-stupid chaos theory-"

"OUCH!"

"You fight like a girl!"

"I AM a girl! You fight-"

"You know, if we can't even-"

"-dejar de luchar-"

"-like a bunch of schoolgirls-"

"-maybe it's best if we just-"

"-split up!"

And in that moment, everything seemed to freeze in a tableau of epiphanic shock. The wrestling scientists screeched to a halt, the nurse started to cry, Ellie and Alan glared at each other hatefully, and Ian gave up his peacekeeping endeavors.

Then, one by one, they began to realize the severity of their situation.

Robin, who had been strangling the engineer with an IV cord, jumped away from the machine in fear, shivering at the horror of what she had done. After a minute, the man stood up dizzily and wiped his bloody nose. Once they were both on their feet, they backed away from each other slowly, panting like wolves. After exchanging one last fiery scowl, they retreated to two separate doors, closing them simultaneously. After a second, Robin reopened the door to the supply closet and found a real exit. The nurse whimpered and jumped out the window, slamming it shut as she went.

***CLIPSHOW***

"But all was not lost, however, for they soon discovered an evil plot. They worked together to unravel the threads of this mystery, and before they knew it, they were onto something big . . ."

***CLIPSHOW***

Alan knew what Ellie was going for. He had grown accustomed to her quirky methods of thought-organization, though she usually used these diagrams for matters pertaining to excavation and classification. He had to admit that it was useful to put all of these thoughts into writing, even if they couldn't draw any new information from it.

"What does it all mean?" Ian asked, strumming at the yarn idly.

"It's a compilation of what we know and who told us," Ellie replied, slapping his hand away from the web.

"And what DO we know?"

Ellie strutted to the side of the map like a military tactician, pointing at the diagram with a plastic knitting needle.

"First, there's the information Wu gave us. He seemed uncomfortable while he was describing the 'aerodynamic qualities' of certain theropods, so I decided to investigate further, eventually leaching the rest of the information from Robin."

"How did you know it was the raptors?" Ian asked.

"Lucky guess," Ellie hummed sardonically, "Of course, this leads us to the troödons, the most intelligent dinosaurs known to man . . ."

"They seem like a major threat," Alan speculated, "but at least we know how to identify them, not that _that's_ much help, if Robin is telling the truth."

"And The Machine?" Ian wondered aloud, "Where does it fit in? It must be-"

"Irrelevant," Ellie snapped, "We're concerned with dinosaurs and disease, not science fiction! Speaking of which . . ."

"This virus is the most ambiguous part," Alan continued, "Wu says it's dangerous, Hammond says it's benign. Who do we trust? Wu's a liar, and Hammond's . . . Well, he's a bit out-of-touch with reality."

"Therefore, we trust neither of them," Ellie concluded, "Robin, however . . ."

"Said nothing useful. She speaks in riddles . . ." Ian protested.

"Not true," Ellie said, shaking her head, "She knows something. We can coax it out of her, I'm sure."

"But why-"

"She spoke as though she was aware of my condition. Did you see how confused she looked when I stumbled? It makes sense: she fits into the _at-risk_ demographic."

"So you're saying? . . ."

"She has it too," Alan confirmed.

Ian scratched his head.

"I don't know . . . What was it she said before she left? I don't recall her exact words, but it struck me as odd. Something about communication? . . ."

"She's close to the dinosaurs. I saw her feeding bambiraptors," Ellie remembered, "But why would she associate it with the virus?"

"Maybe we should split up and look for clues," Ian sang patronizingly.

"Can it, Scrappy," Alan warned him.

"Scrappy? I thought I was Fred," Ian complained.

"I'm the wisest: I get to be Fred," Alan argued.

"Jinkies," Ellie huffed.

***CLIPSHOW***

"From there, they learned-"

The woman was interrupted when her phone went off. She checked the caller ID and blinked in surprise.

"I'm afraid I'll have to put this presentation on hold. Raven will answer any of your questions while I'm gone."

A purple-haired girl in the front corner of the room looked up from her cellphone and frowned.

"Seriously, Mom?"

"Yes, seriously. Do as you're told."

Raven rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. He mother left the room, and everyone fell silent. Raven popped her bubble gum.

"Look, I don't really care about any of this, so . . ."

"Can we leave?" the chubby dinosaur asked.

"No. You have to stay until the end."

"Who are you?" a man in the front row asked.

"I'm Raven. Julia is my mother, but I'm adopted. I was actually miscarried and reincarnated as a starfish."

"Starfish?" a woman echoed.

"Yes!" Raven snapped, "Everyone knows that starfish are actually the souls of miscarried babies!"

A dinosaur in the back row raised his hand.

"Does that include abortions?" he asked.

"Why does everyone keep _asking_ me that?!" Raven snarled.

"Why aren't you a starfish now?" someone else piped up.

"Because my mom changed me into a human, jeez!" she grumbled, "You guys are so stupid . . ."

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light, and a woman in a jumpsuit made of orange spandex shot a tranquilizer dart at the purple-haired girl, who fell to the ground and passed out. The jumpsuit woman pointed to Frank.

"You. Come with me. I have a job for you."

***CLASSIFIED***

The woman led him to a fancy hover-jet, which took off and turned invisible as it flew over the ocean. Frank put his margaritas on the arms of his chair and listened to the woman as she briefed him.

"I'm María Serrano. FBI, CIA, LRT. Twenty years ago, I was kidnapped by the Russians and forced to undergo inhumane experimentation. I escaped with my life and nothing more. I fabricated the secret identity of a humble maid to lie low, but found that I had super powers as a side effect of the testing. I used my gifts to infiltrate and observe genetics companies to ensure that there were no illegal goings-on. After a lengthy surveillance of another InGen, I joined an elite force of superheroes whose mission is to eliminate interdimensional threats. We detected one such threat recently. Do you recognize this man?"

She showed him a picture of a dinosaur with robotic arms.

"Never seen him."

"His name is Vic Hoskins. He died recently, but that didn't stop him from returning as a cyborg pachysaurolophus . . . a hybrid dinosaur, of course. He's threatening to take over the Interdimensional Senate with his army of hexobytes. We don't expect him to cause us any trouble, as long as we can obtain the Hydraulic Fox Orb. It's located on a different Isla Nublar, in another dimension. Your job is to seek it out and bring it to me. Are you up to the task?"

Frank shrugged.

"Sure."

"Good. Brace yourself."

His chair dropped down through a trapdoor and fell into the open sky. Frank instinctively grabbed his margarita glasses and screamed at the top of his lungs. Suddenly, a parachute opened over his head, and he drifted into a glowing portal. He caught the falling margarita fluid in his two glasses, and not a single drop was lost.

As the clouds parted below him, Frank could see an island coming into view. It looked just like Isla Nublar, but if the jumpsuit woman was to be believed, it was the Isla Nublar of another dimension.

Whatever the case may be, it looked like trouble.

***CLASSIFIED***

Frank jogged across the island, taking care not to spill his margaritas. He was supposed to be looking for a long peninsula with a fountain on the end, but he was having no luck. It was a big island, and he was only one man . . .

Suddenly, a brunette woman in a black outfit rode over on a Clydesdale Mule.

"I've never seen _you_ before . . ." she remarked.

"Name's Frank. I'm looking for a blue orb."

"The one in the fountain?"

Frank nodded.

"I can give you a ride," the woman offered, "It's not far."

Frank mounted the mule. With a click of her tongue, the woman sent the animal on his way. Frank immediately regretted his decision to ride with her, for the mule was galloping rather unsteadily. He had to lean in all directions to keep his margaritas from spilling, but somehow, he was able to keep the liquid safe. Finally, after a bumpy ride, they came to the long peninsula, and Frank dismounted the mule. He ran over to the bubbling fountain at the end of the path and looked up at the spinning ball on top. It was blue, and it shone brightly under the setting sun.

'Have you located the sphere?' María's voice called through a small clip on Frank's shirt.

"Yeah, I found it."

'We've used our satellites to triangulate your position and will be beaming it up shortly.'

A ray of light descended from the sky. The blue ball was pulled towards the clouds, presumably disappearing into a portal of some kind.

Frank stared up at the sky for fifteen minutes before he realized that they weren't coming back for him.

***CLASSIFIED***

Margaritas in hand, Frank wandered back to the center of the island. The lady with the mule was gone, so he covered very little distance on foot. He sighed pensively and searched for a place to sit. Before he could find one, a yellow allosaurus ran over to him with a panicked stride.

"Hey, buddy! We need help with our rock band."

"I don't know how to play," Frank said apologetically.

"You don't need to know how. We have to find someone to play the foot drum thing. You know: that big drum with the stick on the doohickey that you step on to make a boom-boom-boom sound . . . Just help us, okay?"

"Okay."

He followed her to a large outdoor stage and stood behind the drums, doing exactly as he was told. The dinosaur went up to the microphone and gave him a quick nod.

"Alright. Until our drum-player-person comes back, we'll need you to fill in. This has to be perfect."

A spinosaurus lumbered over to the keyboard.

"Um, Robin? I don't know how to play this."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You didn't just assume that I could play piano because I'm asian, right? . . ."

The allosaur blinked.

"Would that be perceived as racist?"

"Yes."

"Then no. Alright, from the top!"

She stamped her foot and started singing.

"Capital cash, it's your illegal stash!

Make a million dollars and it's gone in a flash!"

She shook her head.

"Cut, cut, cut."

"We aren't filming this . . ." the spinosaur said.

"I feel like we're missing something. Should we go french? Put some Stromae in there, maybe?"

The spinosaur blinked.

"I have no idea what you're saying. Are we trying to pick a song?"

"Yeah . . . Hey! What about that one that the stupid yellow dragon is always singing?"

"Fine . . . Should I get Alan to play the keyboard? I seriously don't know how."

The allosaur cocked her head.

"Couldn't you just learn?"

The spinosaur crossed his arms.

"Robin . . ."

"Fine, we'll do it _your_ way."

***ROCKOUT***

They practiced for a few days before putting their music skills to use. Frank worked the drum pedals, because the real drummer called in sick (mostly due to the fact that she didn't play drums, and the yellow allosaur had apparently not bothered to check with her before assigning the instrument). The gig consisted of saving the world by annoying a giant hellhound or something. Frank wasn't really paying attention.

When the performance was over, he returned to the island of this mysterious new world for a fireworks show. They erupted over the treetops in bursts of strontium-red and magnesium-white. Frank was asked to do an encore of the band's song. He did as he was told, then settled down on a lawn chair, watching the last few fireworks burst over the glimmering ocean.

"Happy anniversary! Peepeetsooh!" the allosaur whooped from her picnic blanket.

"Anniversary of _what_ , Robin?" a woman with feathered wings asked.

"Hell if _I_ know. The dragon was being meta again."

The winged woman narrowed her eyes.

"Hm. Happy anniversary, then."

She waved her hand, and a series of fireworks appeared in the sky, forming the message in a hail of fire. Two dragons spiraled around it, breathing fire in a final explosion.

Frank smiled and looked out at the sparkling ocean, taking a sip of his well-earned margaritas. He had no idea what the hell had just happened, but he wasn't about to ask.

 **HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!**


End file.
